a life worth living for anita_dee part 1
Title: A Life Worth Living
Rating: R (for violence and mentioned intimacy)
Pairing: Seulgi/Irene
Word Count: 31,600
Warnings: Supernatural elements, fantasy/sci-fi aspects of a modern world, graphic depictions of violence, cyborgs, very modified science (semi-hand-wavy), aliens and magic and war, people turning into animals and then back into humans, black holes and multiverse concepts. Inclusion of EXO and F(x) among characters.
Summary: In a world at constant war between five nation states, Seulgi fights for her keep and battles the solitude and silence by thoughts of a loyal hunting wolf. Yet not all things appear as they seem.
Author’s Notes: I ended up taking a few aspects from your prompts and coming up with this. This is kind of my first time writing ladies, and I apologize if it falls flat regarding your expectations.
✖
Once, people used to wake up in their beds with something called an alarm clock. It would ring and or beep or screech or sometimes chirp, dragging the owner from sleep to get up for the day. Sometimes, younger people would have their parents wake them up, rousing them from sleep with gentle words or hands and give them breakfast.
Mornings weren’t started with the blasting crackle over the loudspeakers in the cities, jarring into skulls and bone from communicators and implants. People could sleep in if they wanted to, and didn’t have to follow the schedule that was set from war where everyone woke up at six because that’s when fighting resumed.
Thinking back to how she was woken up every morning to those screaming sirens, Seulgi almost misses them fondly. She didn't have a mother to wake her gently, she lost her in the raids and the stupid fighting that has been going on for over a decade. Instead it was only her father’s tired face and barking rasp of a voice to greet the day with her.
But even that Seulgi would prefer to the rude awakening this morning. Nothing is worse than starting the morning with the snarling scream of one of her targets right in her ear before the morning sirens wrent the air.
Teeth grit, Seulgi yanks her switchblade free from a thick hide, a snarl on her own face to match her target’s. The beast (if you can call them that, really) lets out a metallic edged shriek, twisting with it’s mechanical implants whirring and clicking to face her. It’s a big one, bigger than the job had said, about twice the size of the typical beasts sent out to sabotage the militia units. It’s nasty too, wild glowing red eyes and it’s fur has been torn out in grisly patches.
Blowing a strand of hair from her face, Seulgi steps back, twisting to grab for one of her hand cannons, eyes fixed on her prize. If she can get it between the eyes, in the cybernetic primary cortex, she’ll be able to take the thing down. That’s kind of the goal, considering the only reason she’s staying and fighting this damn thing is to get paid for taking it down.
“C’mon,” she half growls, half goads, eyes fixed on the enormous monster. Fingers wrapping around the handle of the hand cannon, finger poised precisely over the trigger, she keeps her body tense. The beast is fast, but anything as heavy as what she’s facing now has a significant disadvantage compared to her for mobility. Jaws snapping, the monster snarls, shaking it’s head and baring it’s teeth at her, vicious. It tenses, taking her in and prowling.
It would be easy to shoot now, take it down with good wound to the front or back leg, but that’d mostly just make it angrier than it already is. As much as Seulgi would love to piss this damn thing off for waking her up in the twisted ruins of an old city buried in the Wilderness, she’s more intent on just killing it and collecting her pay.
With a sudden loud snarl the beast launches, metal gears screaming on the air as it roars, charging at her with the intent to kill. Precise and feeling every movement in her body, Seulgi springs forward rather than back, using the steel toned muscles of her thighs to leap over the beast. It screams in anger, head whipping back as she flies overhead, gun aimed directly at the head with eyes narrowed.
The blast from the hand cannon jars her arms to ache, shocking up bone as Seulgi fires once, twice, three blasts from the handheld double barreled minicannon. It hits exactly where she needs, directly between the eyes of the beast, morphing the scream into a roar that rises into a wailing screech. Twisting in the air, Seulgi manages to land, swearing loudly as her feet slam into the back of the beast, it’s body twisting under her.
Directly before her, fixed in a metal plate against the back of the beasts neck, is the primary activation chip. As he beast twists, trying to throw her off, Seulgi flicks the main switch on her hand cannon, feeling the sudden heat and charge from the machine, aims and fires. The shattering crackle of the electromagnetically charged bullet slams into the plate, sending an array of white blue sparks and flares from it.
Not wanting to watch the show, Seulgi flings herself off the beast, slamming into the ground with a grunt before rolling clear. Tumbling and feeling the hard packed cement from the city under the debris of the returning Wilderness, she springs up, head snapping up to take in her target, ears ringing with its screams.
It hasn’t moved, instead slowly buckling to the ground with shrieks and stuttering movements as its internal processor is fried from the core out. Twisting, screaming and whole body collapsing under it, the monster lets out a final wail and collapses, steaming and smoking as the metal core within the animal’s flesh overheats and combusts, successfully killing it.
Breathing heavily and remaining still (Seulgi’s had enough of these damn things come back to life powered purely by robotis to not just assume she’s clear) Seulgi waits fixed in place, still tense, watching the beast’s corpse before her. Still, she can feel the sweat sticking to her skin, matting her hair to her forehead, and the ache in her muscles from being slammed around earlier. “Directory,” she says, grimacing as her voice drags in her throat, raw from exertion. “Primary scan of target.”
“Inactive,” comes the automated voice from the stud in her ear, implanted into the inner shell. “Target shows no signs of life. Primary robotics core has been destroyed and the spinal cord fried due to electric shock.”
“Good,” Seulgi says, allowing herself a small victory smirk. Standing and pushing her flown away hair from her face, Seulgi stretches, holstering the hand cannon at her hip. “No more in the area?”
“The area has been cleared of all of the Janus Warg Units,” the implant reports. “Mission complete.”
Letting out a small sigh of relief, Seulgi walks towards the unit she just took down. For the most part, they’re just referred to as ‘beasts’ or ‘monsters’. That’s essentially what they are, abominations of the natural creatures they originated from and constructed in labs for combat with cybernetic and robotic cores so they’re ten times harder to take down and unwaveringly obedient to their creators. This one, the last one of those set into this quadrant of Wilderness, was set up to take out the new troops from Regal. It’s a sort of nasty mix between bear and cougar, the twisted metal plates in its body smoking and the acrid smell of burning flesh pungent on the air.
“Scan,” Seulgi says, stepping forward and leaning down, yanking her favorite blade from the neck of the beast. She can barely make out the twisted and scorched writing on the metal plate at the back of the beasts neck, but it looks like this was another unit from the SHIN labs, another T1200 unit from the scratchings. Damn things are a menace, but at least taking them out pays well.
“Scan complete,” reports the implant. It’s wired into the primary chip in her wrist, the communications device serving as an all purpose processor. Apparently, they used to have huge versions of them, called something like ‘computers’ that were the size of large books or monitors. Seulgi doesn’t remember them, only knowing what they look like from the projections in early school before combat took those too. But those were before the wars, before the idiot scientists thought to play with molecular composition and started opening up and trying to stabilize black holes out of obnoxious curiosity.
“Send it off,” Seulgi orders, cleaning off her blade and sheathing it in her belt. “Now we’re done, time to get paid.”
“Transmission sent,” the implant informs. “Calculated distance to the Regal border city is approximated at three days travel.”
Three days. Three days of straight walking in silence and nothing but herself and the implant for company. As much as Seulgi likes the pay and the freedom of movement her job provides, it does get really damn lonely.
Not that she’d give it up, being a mercenary in a time when everyone and everything is at constant war means a steady stream of work and income. Most everyone has found a sort of bright spot to the constant fighting and warfare, and she’s no different. If everyone is geared towards fighting, she may as well benefit and take advantage of it. Sure, she gets glares from some of the soldiers who are ‘more noble’ than she is just because they chose a side and a ruler to follow, but Seulgi doesn’t need a cause.
Ever since the singularities were stabilized into a conduit for other universes to start spilling their worlds to mix fifty years ago, it’s been abject chaos from what she knows. The ‘aliens’, if they can even be called that, were first celebrated. They were contact with other life and finally embodied a way to travel through space that was previously thought impossible. Then they kept coming, from everywhere, until there were suddenly thousands of them.
Then the wars started, between them and humans and their mixed kin and political parties claiming they were more correct than the others. Then someone took out the main grids, and all the technology everyone had become so reliant on collapsed, and everything went to shit.
That’s what lands them here, where Seulgi makes her living going into the Wilderness, the primary warzone, taking jobs and bounties from whatever nation among the five war states is willing to pay. It’s good work, keeping her active and with substantial credits in her account, but it’s exhausting, and more often than not she wouldn’t mind a companion.
That’s the problem with being a mercenary though. Companions aren’t really in the job description.
Stepping back from the T1200, Seulgi taps the communicator at her wrist. “Yo, Joy. You up?”
There is a brief crackle from the transmitter, and then a holographic projection flickers into life above Seulgi’s wrist, showing her a very tousled and tired looking young woman. “What the hell are you doing calling me this early?” Joy grumbles, a soft whine in her tired voice. “The sirens haven’t even gone off yet.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get a T1200 barreling into your camp,” Seulgi says with a twist to her smile. “Wake up. You have stuff to do today, don’t you?”
In response, Joy just lets out a long whining groan and flops back into her bed, the projection flickering in front of Seulgi’s face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Joy grumbles into her pillow. “You on your way back?”
“Three days or so,” Seulgi answers, stepping back from the T1200 to return to her wrecked camp. The damn thing seriously did a number on her stuff. Her pack is trashed, meaning she’ll have to make do with it on the way home. The tent she’d been using up in the trees is also shredded, meaning she’ll have to be exposed, which she really doesn’t like. “I’m gonna need some supplies when I get in. Think you can get me a reboot pack by the time I’m back?”
“Well, not for free,” Joy answers. “But yeah. Three days?”
“Just about,” Seulgi answers, kicking at her ruined camp set. She’ll need to get another set of cooking tools too, the tin cups and pans reduced to twisted metal and fragments. Damnit. “Any news come in from the underground?”
“Other than Nara being crazy ass shits again and preaching that the Nyx are the new prophets of our Third Era? No,” Joy answers, finally sitting up in bed as her communicator follows her. “Though there is news that Utopica is going through a whole new developing sector with the Maji and the Weres, so that’ll be fun if it turns out to be real.”
“Army building?” Seulgi asks, picking up her pack and fishing for a ration bar. She hates relying on them, but sometimes they’re necessary when she’s out in the Wilderness with nothing and a trashed camp.
“When is Utopica not building an army?” Joy replies. “Anyway, I’ll fill you in when you’re done tromping through Wilderness and talking to yourself.”
Seulgi almost laughs, fixing her young friend with a look. “I don’t talk to myself.”
“Well, I just assume. Since no one else is there and you don’t have me, you have to keep yourself company somehow.”
“I’m not laughing,” Seulgi informs her blandly, biting into the ration bar.
“I noticed,” Joy says cheekily back. “You know, the whole informant thing and undercover spy business? Yeah, makes me pretty observant of stuff like that.”
“Brat,” Seulgi says, not bothering to hide the affection in her voice. “One day someone is going to see past those cute innocent smiles and realize you’re a demon.”
“But not today!” Joy chirps, and grins brightly, flashing the ‘peace’ sign through the comm.
Before either of them can say another word, a sudden piercing wail sounds, echoing on the communicator and splitting through the air. The wake up alarms. Fighting resuming and everyone forced to start the day. It lasts a little over two minutes, too loud and too invasive to ignore. It leaves a ringing inside Seulgi’s skull and setting her teeth on edge, ensuring everything is awake. It sounds like they’ve modified it on this boundary, setting a secondary frequency in it, probably to short circuit some new tech that’s been introduced by an ‘enemy’.
“Okay,” Joy sighs, wincing and shaking her hair from her face as the sirens finally fade. “Now I have to get up and start the day.”
“Be good,” Seulgi tells her seriously. Joy sticks out her tongue. “Or Hyuk will probably strand you again.”
“I can take care of Hyuk,” Joy says flippantly. She tumbles from her cot quickly, pulling her hair back as her sleep shirt riding up and flashes her midriff. She fell asleep in her pants last night, the leather material clinging to her like a second skin and resting low on her waist. Seulgi smiles faintly, remembering all the times she had to pull off Joy’s boots when the younger girl fell asleep without taking them off. “You take care of you and get back here in one piece. No missing limbs. I don’t want to have to figure out how to do a rush bionic limb replacement when you get back into the city.”
“As if,” Seulgi laughs. “Nothing can take me down, you know that.”
“Sure, sure,” Joy says, rolling her eyes. “Bye!”
The communicator falls silent in the still of the Wilderness, the dead abandoned city eerily quiet and twisted in the reclamation of nature still motionless from the morning sirens. Letting out a sigh, Seulgi kicks together her things, casting away her ruined items and patching up her pack as best she can. It’s distracting work, and she ends up leaving with almost nothing in the pack, most of it ripped apart.
A soft beep and vibration at her wrist has her looking down.
“Report,” she tells the processor.
“Mission statement delivered and received,” reports the implant in her ear stud. “Payment waiting upon return to commissioner. Regal sends it’s thanks for your services.”
“Of course it does,” Seulgi grumbles, kicking mud and grime off her high boots as she walks through the woodland. “They all do.”
“Would you like to respond to the transmission with a personal message?” inquires the implant in it’s manufactured voice.
“No,” Seulgi replies with a sigh. Pulling her snapback from her pack, she pushes her hair back to fit it on. It’s not something she wears unless on the return, but it makes her smile. The implant falls silent, leaving Seulgi to her journey alone.
Letting out a derisive laugh, Seulgi wonders if she’s going soft that she’s finding the trip more and more lonely each time she takes it.
At about midday, Seulgi stops, pausing by a river for water and a rest, and calls up Joy on her communicator again.
“I could have been doing something important,” Joy huffs at her.
“I’m more important though,” Seulgi answers and gets a tongue stuck out at her in reply. “I need you to check up on something for me.”
“You do need a bionic limb,” Joy half gasps.
“No, I need you to check on Jongin,” Seulgi tells her. Joy wrinkles her nose and gives her a skeptical look. “Not for- Oh come on. You know I’m not interested in him, or any of his kind. No, I need to see if he has any new inventory.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me go and see the dog lover,” Joy says, making a face. “Do you know what he smells like?”
“Cigarettes and dog hair,” Seulgi answers bluntly. “Just do it.” Joy gets a sort of petulant pout on her face. “Please?” Seulgi offers with a softer note to her voice.
Finally with a long suffering sigh, Joy rolls her eyes and relents. “Only because I love you though,” she says before disconnecting the call.
If anything, even if Seulgi ends up with nothing from the whim, she at least will have the look on Joy’s face when she expresses why she wants to talk to Jongin aside from work.
✖
“Thank you for your services,” says the man behind the plexiglass reinforced paneling. The bars and wire mesh against it for reinforcement almost make Seulgi want to laugh, wondering who exactly it’s suppose to protect: her or them. “May the truth shine through the chaos!” the man almost shouts behind his face guard. The reflective surface makes it impossible for him to be seen, voice coming out slightly muffled. He raises his hand in the customary gesture of the dictatorship of Regal, and Seulgi offers it back half heartedly.
“Yeah, lots of shine, awesome,” she replies, stepping back and slinging the new military grade rifle over her shoulder. It bumps against her shredded pack and the back of her thighs.
She pops her gum idly, stepping back from the base complex of the Regal commissions center. The job of hunting and taking down the T1200 units in the Wilderness ended up not being as many credits as promised, just under ninety with a rifle as compensation. She can pawn the firearm, preferring the mobility of the hand cannons to the larger firearms that take more expertise to aim and load.
Furthermore, all the military grade weaponry typically is lacking the electro-shock tech that actually gets the job done when facing the Beasts out in the Wilderness. Maybe, if she’s lucky, Wendy will be in the district and she can pass off the firearm to her. She does good business and uses rifles more in the field when on jobs, and will actually offer a good price rather than try to haggle her down like the majority of the arms dealers.
The city is teeming with life, people in leathers and manufactured micromail slipping in between each other, various markings and fashion statements following trends Seulgi stopped bothering with years ago. She bares her teeth when a man gets too close, his dark eyes lined in black and a leer on his face. “Keep walking,” she tells him lowly, directing her sharp gaze up into his face. She pops her gum, allowing her hair to fall back from her shoulder and revealing the Mercenary emblem stitched to the padding, red as blood.
The leer turns into a sneer, but he steps off. No one messes with the Mercenaries. They’re not on anyone’s side, and Seulgi wouldn’t blink before taking someone down if they mess with her. She’s done it before, got the scars and healed bones to prove it, even a few teeth replaced and screwed into her jaw from a few hits she couldn’t avoid in time.
The Pit is alive with people when she gets in, the massive monitors projecting the stats of Regal and the movements of the other Nations as well as Regal can depict them without making itself look bad. The western district of the Wilderness is mostly occupied at the moment by units from Utopica, but Krepala is in the green for once.
“What’s hot?” Seulgi asks as she steps into a side booth, slipping beside a young woman in a crop top and high leather pants that are generously kind to her backside. The woman glances to her, her long blond hair falling in a cascade down her back.
“Back already?” she asks, her tone almost a drawl as she carefully folds her arms over her chest. It looks lazy, but Seulgi lets a smile play on her lips, taking in the aloof attitude of the other woman and catching the flicker in her glance. “I thought you had just left to go on that Janus job. You can’t just expect me to keep dropping prime jobs like that into your lap every time you come in here.”
“Why not?” Seulgi asks, leaning into her side. She looks out over the throng of people, all buzzing with conversation. “You do every time I come in here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you save all the best jobs for me.” She flashes her a smile, throwing in a wink for good measure, and gets those lips to twitch up in a smile.
“I have other customers besides you,” Krystal tells her, raising one eyebrow perfectly, but she smiles a little regardless. “Plus, I know you don’t always play nice.” Seulgi grins and pops her gum, nudging Krystal’s hip with her own in a playful manner. Letting out a soft sigh, Krystal nudges back, letting her arms relax a bit and dropping the show. “I did just get a tip off though,” she continues, looking into the crowd. “Apparently the forces of Janus and Krepala are sick of watching Utopica push into territories. They’re forming some sort of small truce to take out a sector of their militia. Offering a pretty nice prize.”
“You mean just send me into the work of the state I just took out two dozen units from?” Seulgi clarifies dryly. She knows better than to think that a simple military tactic from a nameless mercenary will really sway the intents of the warstates, but Janus has always been a bit touchy on dealing with mercenaries that had been hired against them previously.
“Well, if you don’t want to take the job, you don’t have to,” Krystal says loftily. “I was just offering it as a suggestion.”
“How much?”
“Something around the hundreds credits range,” Krystal answers. “Give or take twenty.”
“Catch?”
“Don’t die and keep it neutral.”
The sign up for commissions is always easy, punching in the scan codes and encryptions by the backwall terminals amid the tarmac and hoisted tarps for the trade areas. Seulgi’s well used to it by now, hiding her security codes and changing them frequently to keep track and stay private. The job shows up under a red coding, meaning that it is hot and that it most likely will pay more than the two hundred credits. It also means it’s gonna be dangerous, and the death risk is extremely high.
It’d be better as a team mission, or with back up fighting power.
Stepping out of the terminals and weaving her way through the crowds, Seulgi slips to Krystal and plants a swift kiss to the other woman’s cheek, making her startle and turn to her with wider eyes. “As always,” Seulgi says with a soft pleased smile. “It was a pleasure to see you.”
The corner of Krystal’s lips twitch and she lets out a soft laugh, reaching up and flicking the brim of Seulgi’s snapback. “Get out of here before someone starts a row finding out that you just stole the best gig before it hit mainstream,” she laughs, her facade of coldness flickering and fading. “Stay alive.”
Stay alive. It’s basically the only thing that people tell each other anymore rather than simple well wishes. Luck has nothing to do with survival, it’s all about being smart and not getting taken out, at least in Seulgi’s line of business.
The outer districts of the city are always the most cramped, the shining inner cities mostly kept underground as their surface is left open for parks and luxury. The winding tunnels and dazzling metropolis underground shows the true wealth and extent of the city. It’s the outer districts that are the ones that host the life (and death) of the cities. They’re the first to go in an attack, but they’re the first to rebuild after a Drop hits down at the center.
The tavern is only half full when Seulgi pushes her way inside, spotting Joy almost immediately as the other girl flits around to various customers and flashes them her cute and darling smile. Suppressing a laugh, Seulgi takes up residence at the bar, waiting for her friend.
Immediately upon seeing her, Joy’s cute innocent expression drops into a look of relieved disgust. “Upstairs,” she says immediately. “Bath. Now. You look like you just somersaulted through a sewer.”
“So nice to see you too, dear,” Seulgi laughs, but doesn’t argue as she catches the set of roomkeys Joy tosses to her from behind the bar. It’s been a while since Seulgi had an actual bath, and Joy is already waiting for her when she finishes, perched on the bed.
“You know, you could wear a towel at least,” Joy observes as Seulgi walks into the main room, rummaging for her things. She has a spare change of clothes that she’d washed in the Wilderness but her main stuff is still hanging to dry in the bathroom. Seulgi pointedly ignores Joy’s irritated huff. “Or, you know, continue to scar my retinas by walking around naked.”
“Grow up, it’s just skin,” Seulgi tells her easily, flashing her a grin as Joy lets out a loud huff. “I know you’ve seen me and other women naked before. Did you get the stuff I asked for?”
“You mean demanded.”
“Did you get it?” Seulgi asks, and taps a few commands into her communicator, scrolling through the projector screen when it flares up.
“You owe me twelve credits,” Joy tells her, walking up and leaning on her heavily. She’s warm, even through her clothing, and her breath smells sweet from the ambrois she serves to the customers downstairs to loosen their tongues. “And a meal. I want duck.”
“You couldn’t get it for cheaper?” Seulgi asks, frowning as she navigates through the transfer system and her own account security. It takes only a few minutes to deposit the credits into Joy’s account, but it’s made difficult as Joy uses her as a support and leans heavily into her space.
“Times are hard,” Joy mumbles into Seulgi’s shoulder. “It took a lot of work to explain why I needed recalibrated double hand cannons and shot grenade cartridges when all I do is take odd jobs and look cute.”
“I thought you told me you could charm anyone into a good deal.”
“I did,” Joy tells her, poking Seulgi’s tummy with a huff. “The initial price for all this stuff was at least twenty.” Seulgi closes down the comm, and steps back, leaving Joy to support herself as she idly gets dressed. “Also, Jongin got back to me. Says he’s around for the next week before he heads out to do some shows and tries to pick up a new litter from the mountains. So if you want to see him, you should do it within the week.”
Grinning, Seulgi turns to her friend, pulling a shirt over her head. “How is he doing?”
“Still smells like cigarettes and dog hair,” Joy mumbles and toes at Seulgi’s ruined pack on the floor. “According to him, Utopica is looking at figuring out new ways to work with the Were tribes in the North to get them on their side.”
“Well, let’s hope they don’t,” Seulgi tells her.
The Were were one of the first species to come through after the inks were opened up for transport, the stabilized singularities spitting creatures into their laps. They’re the rare species that mutates, a strange combination of animal and human, operating in cycles similar to the old myths and legends before the Third Era known as ‘werewolves’. The Were are different though, easy to pick out among humans and their cycles follow the movements of the planets rather than the moons. They’re some of the most dangerous Outsiders, more so than the Maji and Nyx that came in from Sector 51.
“Have you heard anything?” Joy asks, and moves to sit on her bed, watching as Seulgi finishes getting dressed.
“Aside from the usual, not a whole lot,” Seulgi admits. The cubic room that Joy managed to take for her stay isn’t bad, just a box with seals and general security, basic needs equipment and the standard power charging systems. Seulgi has been in worse and she knows Joy has as well. The communicator on her wrist flashes with a new message, Jongin’s profile opening up with a media screen and an alert. “Though the new units Janus is making are nasty. I am pretty sure I was up against the prototypes, but we’ll see what happens with them.”
“Nasty?”
“A new generation of cyborgs,” Seulgi explains. “It’s like they’re breeding the Dire trait into cross species and then stabilizing the defects with robotics. Makes a pretty obnoxious opponent.” The violent red of the T1200 units flashes briefly before her eyes. “From what I can guess and heard, they’re probably going to use them in combat once they get a sufficient breed and design. Which will make things real nasty.”
“Time to move?” Joy asks, her usually dancing eyes slightly muted.
“When is it not time to move?” Seulgi asks with a wan smile as she opens up the message from Jongin.
✖
The smell of the Pens reaches Seulgi before she sees them. She barely is given the chance to look around before a familiar voice calls out and she’s wrapped in a strong hug. Jongin smells exactly like Seulgi remembers: of cigarettes and dog hair. He smiles just the same too, arms strong in a hug around her and bright look on his face. The stubble around his chin suggests he’s trying to grow a beard again, and Seulgi has to hide a laugh at it.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Jongin says, pulling back and looking as bright and enthusiastic as his ‘children’. Inside the complex, Seulgi can hear them, their voices raised in barks and howls. “Not for a least a year. It’s about time you stopped by!” Jongin looks good, skin clear and eyes bright, alive. There are new markings traveling up his darker skin, tribal from the looks of them, slowly added to his skin the higher in his order he climbs.
“Yeah, well, I guess I missed you,” Seulgi says with a smile. Jongin still hasn’t pulled away, standing so close. It’s almost like old times, before he went into the order and she went off to make her living by killing. “You got big.”
“Did I?” Jongin asks, stepping back and glancing down at himself. He’s certainly more grown than before, toned and filled into his frame. It suits him, the strong form matching the strong warm person under his skin and beneath his eyes. “Well, what can I do you for? Or did you really come all the way out here just to visit me?”
Reaching forward with a laugh, Seulgi ruffles his hair, getting the same delighted grin Jongin gets under all affection. Just like his ‘children’. “I need to buy a dog.”
“Lies,” Jongin fake gasps, stepping back and leading her into the Pens. “I thought you would never get one. Told me they were too much hassle for your line of work.”
They’re situated in some of the old abandoned warehouses near the edge of the city. Inside, just as they used to hold cargo, the pens host now dogs, or wolves really. It’s a mass of breeds, hunting dogs, wolves, Direwolves, even some of the mixed breeds with the Were or the Others. It’s an impressive selection. Walking among them, Jongin looks in his element, alive and tall, fond look on his face as he looks over his breeds.
Not one to be pushed down by his childish teasing, Seulgi punches him in the shoulder, hard. Scoffing at his pouting wince as he rubs the ‘wound’, Seulgi tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I’m serious,” she says, looking around at the Pens. “I’ve run into a bit of stuff lately that makes it practical to have a good breed with me. I figured I’d ask you first, since I actually know you won’t just sell me a beast that’ll rip my throat out.”
“Any breed you get from me will be yours,” Jongin tells her, a warm smile on his face as he looks at her. “I take good care of my kids, and they’ll take good care of you.” He looks out over his breeds, hands on his hips as they turn to him, noses in the air in all shapes and sizes. “What kind of companion are you looking for.”
“You keep saying companion like it’s going to be my new friend,” Seulgi observes, looking over the kennels as well. There are a lot of them, ranging from lean smaller dogs, clearly built for speed, and then huge Direwolves, almost the size of deer, and looking capable of ripping an ox in two with their huge jaws. “I need a wolf that will hunt and also knows how to fight.”
“I say companion because that’s what you will have once you leave here,” Jongin says seriously. “If it’s a tracking breed or one of the Direwolves, you’re going to have something that is loyal and lives and breathes with you. I don’t raise bad animals.”
“I never said you did,” Seulgi says, wanting to roll her eyes at Jongin’s apparent offense. “I trust you,” she adds, and Jongin softens a little. “So, what do you recommend? I’m going into thick territory, with fighting and the constant threat of the war, so I need-”
“Something that reflects that,” Jongin finishes, a knowing smirk on his face. Some of the ink against his skin almost seems to move as he turns, flexing against his neck as it appears to crawl up to his jawline. Seulgi wonders how much of it is actual ink and how much is the Maji tribal markings, infused with the presence of magic that had been brought with them when they came from Sector 51. “How about Chansik? He’s loyal and an excellent fighter.”
The hound in question is a purebred hunting dog, his eyes dark and fur pitch black. He almost looks like a shadow, eyes piercing as they fix on Seulgi and he stares silently at her. He appears to be a good choice but…
“No,” Seulgi says, shaking her head and stepping back from the pen of dogs. “I need something with a bit more bite to it. Do you have any cross breeds between the Direwolves and-”
“Are you sure you want something with Direwolf blood?” Jongin asks, frowning as he looks over at the pen of the breeds in question.
The Dire breeds came into existence after the Maji flooded the planet. They brought with them enormous creatures, far larger than the animals that existed on Earth that was. They were massive, taking down prey easily and upsetting the natural balance. It wasn’t long before they earned the reputation of ‘Dire’ based on the old myths of huge hulking beasts, and soon after they were bred and kept for practical purposes. Some still live in the wild, but they’re rare and extremely dangerous.
The selection of Direwolves Jongin has is… impressive considering they tower nearly as tall as he does. Huge, unearthly creatures with wisdom and viciousness in their eyes that growls with knowledge beyond this world. It resonates in Jongin though, in his heritage, his Maji blood, and the markings growing on his skin as his bond with the animals grows.
Seulgi can feel it, and turns from the pen for the Direwolves. They’re only held in the kennel for their obedience to Jongin, and Seulgi knows they could break through it like twine and run free. But they don’t, a symbol of Jongin’s power over them and all of his breeds. “Not a pure Direwolf,” she says, looking towards a kennel near the back. “Something more like a mixed breed between them and a-”
“So you want a true hunter,” Jongin answers, cutting her off again with a bit of a bemused look. “That’s a vicious breed you’re after.”
“I wanted something to match me well,” Seulgi answers. Jongin barks out a laugh, an echoing howl and barking clammer following the sound of his ringing voice.
“How about Flower?” Jongin suggests, gesturing into the pen. Which one is ‘Flower’ exactly is beyond Seulgi, as in the pen in question the hunting wolves, a bit larger than typical grey wolves, are all currently in a ball of snarling snapping jaws. It’s hard to tell how many wolves there are amidst the fighting, and Seulgi feels a brief moment of hesitation at getting a wolf that’s so violent. “Ay!” Jongin shouts, clicks his tongue and whistles low.
Immediately, the wolves break apart with a final snarl, turning to him and all ceasing their row. One, closest to them, has it’s lips curled back in a snarl, eyes bright and almost glowing amber. “So,” Seulgi says, looking at the wolf that is still poised with raised hackles, staring at Jongin and herself. “Which one is ‘Flower’?”
“That one,” Jongin indicates, pointing with a smile to the wolf currently snarling at Seulgi.
“He seems-”
“She,” Jongin corrects.
Turning to flash him a brief look, Seulgi turns back to the wolf. The snarl has abated, but the wolf still looks intimidating. She’s a large creature, probably would stand as tall as Seulgi’s elbow. “She seems friendly.”
“You asked for a hunting wolf,” Jongin says with a loud laugh, looking down at ‘Flower’ with a fond look in his eye. “She’s actually a great wolf. Loyal, fierce, extremely competent, and never afraid to jump into a fight. I think you’d like her.” ‘Flower’ snaps her jaws, letting out a low growl.
“As long as she doesn’t rip my throat out,” Seulgi says. ‘Flower’s eyes are sharp, keen and flickering as they move between Jongin and Seulgi. She’s a stunning wolf really, sleek gray coat and a wonderful build. She’s strong, toned, and honestly quite a beautiful creature. “I like her.”
The wolf settles a bit as Jongin explains a few things, regular care and working, the bonding process that will transfer ownership and therefore alliance, the ‘calling’, and basic training. “I promise, I’ll take good care of her, papa,” Seulgi teases when Jongin keeps glancing back at ‘Flower’ as if worried.
“I know you will,” Jongin admits, but looks a bit more relaxed as he finally calls ‘Flower’ forward. “I just- I’m worried about both of you if you’re out there.”
“I can take care of myself,” Seulgi says, and then bites her tongue. Part of the reason she’s here is because she’s worried about that, about finding herself up against something she can’t take down. A wolf would help. She’s also here because even just having the company of a wolf would probably chase away some of the idle loneliness that creeps up on her. “And now I’ll have ‘Flower’ to help look after me too.” ‘Flower’ snorts at her, but sits when Seulgi throws her a raised look. There’s a flicker in the wolf’s eyes that Seulgi almost… “Plus, you know how well I look after my things.” Jongin gets a toothy grin and Seulgi laughs, wrapping an arm around his neck and tugging him down, ruffling his hair with aggressive fondness. “Took care of you at one point!” she jeers, laughing as Jongin yelps with his own laughter, trying to shove her off.
“Okay, okay, fine,” Jongin says, bright with laughter and flushed. “You’re a big girl and so is ‘Flower’-” ‘Flower’ snorts again and her ears go back a little as Jongin looks at her fondly “- I just worry about my girls.”
“Worry about yourself and let your girls take care of themselves,” Seulgi laughs, shoving Jongin’s grinning face away. Yet when she reaches for ‘Flower’, the wolf’s ears go flat back and she snaps, a vicious snarl emitting from her throat.
Somehow, this makes Jongin laugh. “Try that again if you want to lose your hand,” he almost giggles, and then takes Seulgi’s hand instead. Rolling up the sleeve of her leather jacket, he dips his fingers into a pouch at his waist, pulling them out brown and glistening. It looks like mineral paint, similar to the tattoos on his skin. “Hold still,” Jongin instructs her.
The first touch is almost cool, like a lick of water against her skin and Seulgi pushes down a shiver. Jongin draws careful lines over the inside of her forearm, muttering in a soft jumbled tone that sounds eerie, a mix of sound more than syllables. As his fingers draw over her skin, the painted lines from his fingertips glow and warm, sinking into her skin. Glancing over, ‘Flower’ is watching them intently, her amber eyes bright and fixed on Jongin’s fingers against Seulgi’s wrist.
With a final close of his hand over the bottom of the design, Jongin lets out a low heavy sigh, pressing down hard. Eyes closed, he breathes in deep, then opens them, the light in them almost gleaming, before stepping back. ‘Flower’ doesn’t move, instead watching him silently with her body tense. She lets out a soft growl as he extends his hand, placing the palm directly over the center of her head, pressing down gently between her ears.
Half expecting ‘Flower’ to leap up with a snarl and take Jongin’s hand off, Seulgi is surprised as the wolf instead quiets, head bowing in respect. Then the wolf looks up, eyes bright, and fixes on Seulgi. She doesn’t snarl or growl or tense, but instead looks at her with the utmost attention and devotion.
“She’s a class breed,” Jongin says, stepping back to stand beside Seulgi. At a glance, Seulgi knows the markings on his skin aren’t only tattoos, they’re tribal brandings, connecting him to his own Maji. “Take care of her, and she’ll never leave you.”
“So this is what it feels like to be a master,” Seulgi muses, looking down at the wolf she’s just been bound to.
“Or a parent,” Jongin elaborates, and the gentle look of affection in his eyes is almost overpowering. “You can touch her now.”
‘Flower’ doesn’t move to bite, or hurt, or do anything aside from accept the gentle pat that Seulgi delivers to the top of her head. In fact, she leans up into it, eyes closing and butting up a bit for more. Grinning, Seulgi leans more into it, petting and ruffling ‘Flower’s head, ears, and face.
“She’s also about eighty credits,” Jongin adds.
“Sixty five,” Seulgi retorts easily, smiling as ‘Flower’ steps right to her side when she stands again.
“Eighty.”
“Jongin, I’m not giving you eighty credits for a wolf that’s-”
“Seventy-five,” Jongin says quickly, frowning.
“Seventy,” Seulgi proposes. “And I’ll take you and your favorite pup to dinner.”
“Done,” Jongin says, a sudden brilliant grin on his face. Seulgi remembers only a little too late that Jongin doesn’t shake on deals, he hugs on them. Those bone crushing hugs that squeeze the wind right out of Seulgi’s lungs and leave her aching a bit even as a smile spreads on her face.
✖
Rating: R (for violence and mentioned intimacy)
Pairing: Seulgi/Irene
Word Count: 31,600
Warnings: Supernatural elements, fantasy/sci-fi aspects of a modern world, graphic depictions of violence, cyborgs, very modified science (semi-hand-wavy), aliens and magic and war, people turning into animals and then back into humans, black holes and multiverse concepts. Inclusion of EXO and F(x) among characters.
Summary: In a world at constant war between five nation states, Seulgi fights for her keep and battles the solitude and silence by thoughts of a loyal hunting wolf. Yet not all things appear as they seem.
Author’s Notes: I ended up taking a few aspects from your prompts and coming up with this. This is kind of my first time writing ladies, and I apologize if it falls flat regarding your expectations.
✖
Once, people used to wake up in their beds with something called an alarm clock. It would ring and or beep or screech or sometimes chirp, dragging the owner from sleep to get up for the day. Sometimes, younger people would have their parents wake them up, rousing them from sleep with gentle words or hands and give them breakfast.
Mornings weren’t started with the blasting crackle over the loudspeakers in the cities, jarring into skulls and bone from communicators and implants. People could sleep in if they wanted to, and didn’t have to follow the schedule that was set from war where everyone woke up at six because that’s when fighting resumed.
Thinking back to how she was woken up every morning to those screaming sirens, Seulgi almost misses them fondly. She didn't have a mother to wake her gently, she lost her in the raids and the stupid fighting that has been going on for over a decade. Instead it was only her father’s tired face and barking rasp of a voice to greet the day with her.
But even that Seulgi would prefer to the rude awakening this morning. Nothing is worse than starting the morning with the snarling scream of one of her targets right in her ear before the morning sirens wrent the air.
Teeth grit, Seulgi yanks her switchblade free from a thick hide, a snarl on her own face to match her target’s. The beast (if you can call them that, really) lets out a metallic edged shriek, twisting with it’s mechanical implants whirring and clicking to face her. It’s a big one, bigger than the job had said, about twice the size of the typical beasts sent out to sabotage the militia units. It’s nasty too, wild glowing red eyes and it’s fur has been torn out in grisly patches.
Blowing a strand of hair from her face, Seulgi steps back, twisting to grab for one of her hand cannons, eyes fixed on her prize. If she can get it between the eyes, in the cybernetic primary cortex, she’ll be able to take the thing down. That’s kind of the goal, considering the only reason she’s staying and fighting this damn thing is to get paid for taking it down.
“C’mon,” she half growls, half goads, eyes fixed on the enormous monster. Fingers wrapping around the handle of the hand cannon, finger poised precisely over the trigger, she keeps her body tense. The beast is fast, but anything as heavy as what she’s facing now has a significant disadvantage compared to her for mobility. Jaws snapping, the monster snarls, shaking it’s head and baring it’s teeth at her, vicious. It tenses, taking her in and prowling.
It would be easy to shoot now, take it down with good wound to the front or back leg, but that’d mostly just make it angrier than it already is. As much as Seulgi would love to piss this damn thing off for waking her up in the twisted ruins of an old city buried in the Wilderness, she’s more intent on just killing it and collecting her pay.
With a sudden loud snarl the beast launches, metal gears screaming on the air as it roars, charging at her with the intent to kill. Precise and feeling every movement in her body, Seulgi springs forward rather than back, using the steel toned muscles of her thighs to leap over the beast. It screams in anger, head whipping back as she flies overhead, gun aimed directly at the head with eyes narrowed.
The blast from the hand cannon jars her arms to ache, shocking up bone as Seulgi fires once, twice, three blasts from the handheld double barreled minicannon. It hits exactly where she needs, directly between the eyes of the beast, morphing the scream into a roar that rises into a wailing screech. Twisting in the air, Seulgi manages to land, swearing loudly as her feet slam into the back of the beast, it’s body twisting under her.
Directly before her, fixed in a metal plate against the back of the beasts neck, is the primary activation chip. As he beast twists, trying to throw her off, Seulgi flicks the main switch on her hand cannon, feeling the sudden heat and charge from the machine, aims and fires. The shattering crackle of the electromagnetically charged bullet slams into the plate, sending an array of white blue sparks and flares from it.
Not wanting to watch the show, Seulgi flings herself off the beast, slamming into the ground with a grunt before rolling clear. Tumbling and feeling the hard packed cement from the city under the debris of the returning Wilderness, she springs up, head snapping up to take in her target, ears ringing with its screams.
It hasn’t moved, instead slowly buckling to the ground with shrieks and stuttering movements as its internal processor is fried from the core out. Twisting, screaming and whole body collapsing under it, the monster lets out a final wail and collapses, steaming and smoking as the metal core within the animal’s flesh overheats and combusts, successfully killing it.
Breathing heavily and remaining still (Seulgi’s had enough of these damn things come back to life powered purely by robotis to not just assume she’s clear) Seulgi waits fixed in place, still tense, watching the beast’s corpse before her. Still, she can feel the sweat sticking to her skin, matting her hair to her forehead, and the ache in her muscles from being slammed around earlier. “Directory,” she says, grimacing as her voice drags in her throat, raw from exertion. “Primary scan of target.”
“Inactive,” comes the automated voice from the stud in her ear, implanted into the inner shell. “Target shows no signs of life. Primary robotics core has been destroyed and the spinal cord fried due to electric shock.”
“Good,” Seulgi says, allowing herself a small victory smirk. Standing and pushing her flown away hair from her face, Seulgi stretches, holstering the hand cannon at her hip. “No more in the area?”
“The area has been cleared of all of the Janus Warg Units,” the implant reports. “Mission complete.”
Letting out a small sigh of relief, Seulgi walks towards the unit she just took down. For the most part, they’re just referred to as ‘beasts’ or ‘monsters’. That’s essentially what they are, abominations of the natural creatures they originated from and constructed in labs for combat with cybernetic and robotic cores so they’re ten times harder to take down and unwaveringly obedient to their creators. This one, the last one of those set into this quadrant of Wilderness, was set up to take out the new troops from Regal. It’s a sort of nasty mix between bear and cougar, the twisted metal plates in its body smoking and the acrid smell of burning flesh pungent on the air.
“Scan,” Seulgi says, stepping forward and leaning down, yanking her favorite blade from the neck of the beast. She can barely make out the twisted and scorched writing on the metal plate at the back of the beasts neck, but it looks like this was another unit from the SHIN labs, another T1200 unit from the scratchings. Damn things are a menace, but at least taking them out pays well.
“Scan complete,” reports the implant. It’s wired into the primary chip in her wrist, the communications device serving as an all purpose processor. Apparently, they used to have huge versions of them, called something like ‘computers’ that were the size of large books or monitors. Seulgi doesn’t remember them, only knowing what they look like from the projections in early school before combat took those too. But those were before the wars, before the idiot scientists thought to play with molecular composition and started opening up and trying to stabilize black holes out of obnoxious curiosity.
“Send it off,” Seulgi orders, cleaning off her blade and sheathing it in her belt. “Now we’re done, time to get paid.”
“Transmission sent,” the implant informs. “Calculated distance to the Regal border city is approximated at three days travel.”
Three days. Three days of straight walking in silence and nothing but herself and the implant for company. As much as Seulgi likes the pay and the freedom of movement her job provides, it does get really damn lonely.
Not that she’d give it up, being a mercenary in a time when everyone and everything is at constant war means a steady stream of work and income. Most everyone has found a sort of bright spot to the constant fighting and warfare, and she’s no different. If everyone is geared towards fighting, she may as well benefit and take advantage of it. Sure, she gets glares from some of the soldiers who are ‘more noble’ than she is just because they chose a side and a ruler to follow, but Seulgi doesn’t need a cause.
Ever since the singularities were stabilized into a conduit for other universes to start spilling their worlds to mix fifty years ago, it’s been abject chaos from what she knows. The ‘aliens’, if they can even be called that, were first celebrated. They were contact with other life and finally embodied a way to travel through space that was previously thought impossible. Then they kept coming, from everywhere, until there were suddenly thousands of them.
Then the wars started, between them and humans and their mixed kin and political parties claiming they were more correct than the others. Then someone took out the main grids, and all the technology everyone had become so reliant on collapsed, and everything went to shit.
That’s what lands them here, where Seulgi makes her living going into the Wilderness, the primary warzone, taking jobs and bounties from whatever nation among the five war states is willing to pay. It’s good work, keeping her active and with substantial credits in her account, but it’s exhausting, and more often than not she wouldn’t mind a companion.
That’s the problem with being a mercenary though. Companions aren’t really in the job description.
Stepping back from the T1200, Seulgi taps the communicator at her wrist. “Yo, Joy. You up?”
There is a brief crackle from the transmitter, and then a holographic projection flickers into life above Seulgi’s wrist, showing her a very tousled and tired looking young woman. “What the hell are you doing calling me this early?” Joy grumbles, a soft whine in her tired voice. “The sirens haven’t even gone off yet.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get a T1200 barreling into your camp,” Seulgi says with a twist to her smile. “Wake up. You have stuff to do today, don’t you?”
In response, Joy just lets out a long whining groan and flops back into her bed, the projection flickering in front of Seulgi’s face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Joy grumbles into her pillow. “You on your way back?”
“Three days or so,” Seulgi answers, stepping back from the T1200 to return to her wrecked camp. The damn thing seriously did a number on her stuff. Her pack is trashed, meaning she’ll have to make do with it on the way home. The tent she’d been using up in the trees is also shredded, meaning she’ll have to be exposed, which she really doesn’t like. “I’m gonna need some supplies when I get in. Think you can get me a reboot pack by the time I’m back?”
“Well, not for free,” Joy answers. “But yeah. Three days?”
“Just about,” Seulgi answers, kicking at her ruined camp set. She’ll need to get another set of cooking tools too, the tin cups and pans reduced to twisted metal and fragments. Damnit. “Any news come in from the underground?”
“Other than Nara being crazy ass shits again and preaching that the Nyx are the new prophets of our Third Era? No,” Joy answers, finally sitting up in bed as her communicator follows her. “Though there is news that Utopica is going through a whole new developing sector with the Maji and the Weres, so that’ll be fun if it turns out to be real.”
“Army building?” Seulgi asks, picking up her pack and fishing for a ration bar. She hates relying on them, but sometimes they’re necessary when she’s out in the Wilderness with nothing and a trashed camp.
“When is Utopica not building an army?” Joy replies. “Anyway, I’ll fill you in when you’re done tromping through Wilderness and talking to yourself.”
Seulgi almost laughs, fixing her young friend with a look. “I don’t talk to myself.”
“Well, I just assume. Since no one else is there and you don’t have me, you have to keep yourself company somehow.”
“I’m not laughing,” Seulgi informs her blandly, biting into the ration bar.
“I noticed,” Joy says cheekily back. “You know, the whole informant thing and undercover spy business? Yeah, makes me pretty observant of stuff like that.”
“Brat,” Seulgi says, not bothering to hide the affection in her voice. “One day someone is going to see past those cute innocent smiles and realize you’re a demon.”
“But not today!” Joy chirps, and grins brightly, flashing the ‘peace’ sign through the comm.
Before either of them can say another word, a sudden piercing wail sounds, echoing on the communicator and splitting through the air. The wake up alarms. Fighting resuming and everyone forced to start the day. It lasts a little over two minutes, too loud and too invasive to ignore. It leaves a ringing inside Seulgi’s skull and setting her teeth on edge, ensuring everything is awake. It sounds like they’ve modified it on this boundary, setting a secondary frequency in it, probably to short circuit some new tech that’s been introduced by an ‘enemy’.
“Okay,” Joy sighs, wincing and shaking her hair from her face as the sirens finally fade. “Now I have to get up and start the day.”
“Be good,” Seulgi tells her seriously. Joy sticks out her tongue. “Or Hyuk will probably strand you again.”
“I can take care of Hyuk,” Joy says flippantly. She tumbles from her cot quickly, pulling her hair back as her sleep shirt riding up and flashes her midriff. She fell asleep in her pants last night, the leather material clinging to her like a second skin and resting low on her waist. Seulgi smiles faintly, remembering all the times she had to pull off Joy’s boots when the younger girl fell asleep without taking them off. “You take care of you and get back here in one piece. No missing limbs. I don’t want to have to figure out how to do a rush bionic limb replacement when you get back into the city.”
“As if,” Seulgi laughs. “Nothing can take me down, you know that.”
“Sure, sure,” Joy says, rolling her eyes. “Bye!”
The communicator falls silent in the still of the Wilderness, the dead abandoned city eerily quiet and twisted in the reclamation of nature still motionless from the morning sirens. Letting out a sigh, Seulgi kicks together her things, casting away her ruined items and patching up her pack as best she can. It’s distracting work, and she ends up leaving with almost nothing in the pack, most of it ripped apart.
A soft beep and vibration at her wrist has her looking down.
“Report,” she tells the processor.
“Mission statement delivered and received,” reports the implant in her ear stud. “Payment waiting upon return to commissioner. Regal sends it’s thanks for your services.”
“Of course it does,” Seulgi grumbles, kicking mud and grime off her high boots as she walks through the woodland. “They all do.”
“Would you like to respond to the transmission with a personal message?” inquires the implant in it’s manufactured voice.
“No,” Seulgi replies with a sigh. Pulling her snapback from her pack, she pushes her hair back to fit it on. It’s not something she wears unless on the return, but it makes her smile. The implant falls silent, leaving Seulgi to her journey alone.
Letting out a derisive laugh, Seulgi wonders if she’s going soft that she’s finding the trip more and more lonely each time she takes it.
At about midday, Seulgi stops, pausing by a river for water and a rest, and calls up Joy on her communicator again.
“I could have been doing something important,” Joy huffs at her.
“I’m more important though,” Seulgi answers and gets a tongue stuck out at her in reply. “I need you to check up on something for me.”
“You do need a bionic limb,” Joy half gasps.
“No, I need you to check on Jongin,” Seulgi tells her. Joy wrinkles her nose and gives her a skeptical look. “Not for- Oh come on. You know I’m not interested in him, or any of his kind. No, I need to see if he has any new inventory.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me go and see the dog lover,” Joy says, making a face. “Do you know what he smells like?”
“Cigarettes and dog hair,” Seulgi answers bluntly. “Just do it.” Joy gets a sort of petulant pout on her face. “Please?” Seulgi offers with a softer note to her voice.
Finally with a long suffering sigh, Joy rolls her eyes and relents. “Only because I love you though,” she says before disconnecting the call.
If anything, even if Seulgi ends up with nothing from the whim, she at least will have the look on Joy’s face when she expresses why she wants to talk to Jongin aside from work.
✖
“Thank you for your services,” says the man behind the plexiglass reinforced paneling. The bars and wire mesh against it for reinforcement almost make Seulgi want to laugh, wondering who exactly it’s suppose to protect: her or them. “May the truth shine through the chaos!” the man almost shouts behind his face guard. The reflective surface makes it impossible for him to be seen, voice coming out slightly muffled. He raises his hand in the customary gesture of the dictatorship of Regal, and Seulgi offers it back half heartedly.
“Yeah, lots of shine, awesome,” she replies, stepping back and slinging the new military grade rifle over her shoulder. It bumps against her shredded pack and the back of her thighs.
She pops her gum idly, stepping back from the base complex of the Regal commissions center. The job of hunting and taking down the T1200 units in the Wilderness ended up not being as many credits as promised, just under ninety with a rifle as compensation. She can pawn the firearm, preferring the mobility of the hand cannons to the larger firearms that take more expertise to aim and load.
Furthermore, all the military grade weaponry typically is lacking the electro-shock tech that actually gets the job done when facing the Beasts out in the Wilderness. Maybe, if she’s lucky, Wendy will be in the district and she can pass off the firearm to her. She does good business and uses rifles more in the field when on jobs, and will actually offer a good price rather than try to haggle her down like the majority of the arms dealers.
The city is teeming with life, people in leathers and manufactured micromail slipping in between each other, various markings and fashion statements following trends Seulgi stopped bothering with years ago. She bares her teeth when a man gets too close, his dark eyes lined in black and a leer on his face. “Keep walking,” she tells him lowly, directing her sharp gaze up into his face. She pops her gum, allowing her hair to fall back from her shoulder and revealing the Mercenary emblem stitched to the padding, red as blood.
The leer turns into a sneer, but he steps off. No one messes with the Mercenaries. They’re not on anyone’s side, and Seulgi wouldn’t blink before taking someone down if they mess with her. She’s done it before, got the scars and healed bones to prove it, even a few teeth replaced and screwed into her jaw from a few hits she couldn’t avoid in time.
The Pit is alive with people when she gets in, the massive monitors projecting the stats of Regal and the movements of the other Nations as well as Regal can depict them without making itself look bad. The western district of the Wilderness is mostly occupied at the moment by units from Utopica, but Krepala is in the green for once.
“What’s hot?” Seulgi asks as she steps into a side booth, slipping beside a young woman in a crop top and high leather pants that are generously kind to her backside. The woman glances to her, her long blond hair falling in a cascade down her back.
“Back already?” she asks, her tone almost a drawl as she carefully folds her arms over her chest. It looks lazy, but Seulgi lets a smile play on her lips, taking in the aloof attitude of the other woman and catching the flicker in her glance. “I thought you had just left to go on that Janus job. You can’t just expect me to keep dropping prime jobs like that into your lap every time you come in here.”
“Why not?” Seulgi asks, leaning into her side. She looks out over the throng of people, all buzzing with conversation. “You do every time I come in here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you save all the best jobs for me.” She flashes her a smile, throwing in a wink for good measure, and gets those lips to twitch up in a smile.
“I have other customers besides you,” Krystal tells her, raising one eyebrow perfectly, but she smiles a little regardless. “Plus, I know you don’t always play nice.” Seulgi grins and pops her gum, nudging Krystal’s hip with her own in a playful manner. Letting out a soft sigh, Krystal nudges back, letting her arms relax a bit and dropping the show. “I did just get a tip off though,” she continues, looking into the crowd. “Apparently the forces of Janus and Krepala are sick of watching Utopica push into territories. They’re forming some sort of small truce to take out a sector of their militia. Offering a pretty nice prize.”
“You mean just send me into the work of the state I just took out two dozen units from?” Seulgi clarifies dryly. She knows better than to think that a simple military tactic from a nameless mercenary will really sway the intents of the warstates, but Janus has always been a bit touchy on dealing with mercenaries that had been hired against them previously.
“Well, if you don’t want to take the job, you don’t have to,” Krystal says loftily. “I was just offering it as a suggestion.”
“How much?”
“Something around the hundreds credits range,” Krystal answers. “Give or take twenty.”
“Catch?”
“Don’t die and keep it neutral.”
The sign up for commissions is always easy, punching in the scan codes and encryptions by the backwall terminals amid the tarmac and hoisted tarps for the trade areas. Seulgi’s well used to it by now, hiding her security codes and changing them frequently to keep track and stay private. The job shows up under a red coding, meaning that it is hot and that it most likely will pay more than the two hundred credits. It also means it’s gonna be dangerous, and the death risk is extremely high.
It’d be better as a team mission, or with back up fighting power.
Stepping out of the terminals and weaving her way through the crowds, Seulgi slips to Krystal and plants a swift kiss to the other woman’s cheek, making her startle and turn to her with wider eyes. “As always,” Seulgi says with a soft pleased smile. “It was a pleasure to see you.”
The corner of Krystal’s lips twitch and she lets out a soft laugh, reaching up and flicking the brim of Seulgi’s snapback. “Get out of here before someone starts a row finding out that you just stole the best gig before it hit mainstream,” she laughs, her facade of coldness flickering and fading. “Stay alive.”
Stay alive. It’s basically the only thing that people tell each other anymore rather than simple well wishes. Luck has nothing to do with survival, it’s all about being smart and not getting taken out, at least in Seulgi’s line of business.
The outer districts of the city are always the most cramped, the shining inner cities mostly kept underground as their surface is left open for parks and luxury. The winding tunnels and dazzling metropolis underground shows the true wealth and extent of the city. It’s the outer districts that are the ones that host the life (and death) of the cities. They’re the first to go in an attack, but they’re the first to rebuild after a Drop hits down at the center.
The tavern is only half full when Seulgi pushes her way inside, spotting Joy almost immediately as the other girl flits around to various customers and flashes them her cute and darling smile. Suppressing a laugh, Seulgi takes up residence at the bar, waiting for her friend.
Immediately upon seeing her, Joy’s cute innocent expression drops into a look of relieved disgust. “Upstairs,” she says immediately. “Bath. Now. You look like you just somersaulted through a sewer.”
“So nice to see you too, dear,” Seulgi laughs, but doesn’t argue as she catches the set of roomkeys Joy tosses to her from behind the bar. It’s been a while since Seulgi had an actual bath, and Joy is already waiting for her when she finishes, perched on the bed.
“You know, you could wear a towel at least,” Joy observes as Seulgi walks into the main room, rummaging for her things. She has a spare change of clothes that she’d washed in the Wilderness but her main stuff is still hanging to dry in the bathroom. Seulgi pointedly ignores Joy’s irritated huff. “Or, you know, continue to scar my retinas by walking around naked.”
“Grow up, it’s just skin,” Seulgi tells her easily, flashing her a grin as Joy lets out a loud huff. “I know you’ve seen me and other women naked before. Did you get the stuff I asked for?”
“You mean demanded.”
“Did you get it?” Seulgi asks, and taps a few commands into her communicator, scrolling through the projector screen when it flares up.
“You owe me twelve credits,” Joy tells her, walking up and leaning on her heavily. She’s warm, even through her clothing, and her breath smells sweet from the ambrois she serves to the customers downstairs to loosen their tongues. “And a meal. I want duck.”
“You couldn’t get it for cheaper?” Seulgi asks, frowning as she navigates through the transfer system and her own account security. It takes only a few minutes to deposit the credits into Joy’s account, but it’s made difficult as Joy uses her as a support and leans heavily into her space.
“Times are hard,” Joy mumbles into Seulgi’s shoulder. “It took a lot of work to explain why I needed recalibrated double hand cannons and shot grenade cartridges when all I do is take odd jobs and look cute.”
“I thought you told me you could charm anyone into a good deal.”
“I did,” Joy tells her, poking Seulgi’s tummy with a huff. “The initial price for all this stuff was at least twenty.” Seulgi closes down the comm, and steps back, leaving Joy to support herself as she idly gets dressed. “Also, Jongin got back to me. Says he’s around for the next week before he heads out to do some shows and tries to pick up a new litter from the mountains. So if you want to see him, you should do it within the week.”
Grinning, Seulgi turns to her friend, pulling a shirt over her head. “How is he doing?”
“Still smells like cigarettes and dog hair,” Joy mumbles and toes at Seulgi’s ruined pack on the floor. “According to him, Utopica is looking at figuring out new ways to work with the Were tribes in the North to get them on their side.”
“Well, let’s hope they don’t,” Seulgi tells her.
The Were were one of the first species to come through after the inks were opened up for transport, the stabilized singularities spitting creatures into their laps. They’re the rare species that mutates, a strange combination of animal and human, operating in cycles similar to the old myths and legends before the Third Era known as ‘werewolves’. The Were are different though, easy to pick out among humans and their cycles follow the movements of the planets rather than the moons. They’re some of the most dangerous Outsiders, more so than the Maji and Nyx that came in from Sector 51.
“Have you heard anything?” Joy asks, and moves to sit on her bed, watching as Seulgi finishes getting dressed.
“Aside from the usual, not a whole lot,” Seulgi admits. The cubic room that Joy managed to take for her stay isn’t bad, just a box with seals and general security, basic needs equipment and the standard power charging systems. Seulgi has been in worse and she knows Joy has as well. The communicator on her wrist flashes with a new message, Jongin’s profile opening up with a media screen and an alert. “Though the new units Janus is making are nasty. I am pretty sure I was up against the prototypes, but we’ll see what happens with them.”
“Nasty?”
“A new generation of cyborgs,” Seulgi explains. “It’s like they’re breeding the Dire trait into cross species and then stabilizing the defects with robotics. Makes a pretty obnoxious opponent.” The violent red of the T1200 units flashes briefly before her eyes. “From what I can guess and heard, they’re probably going to use them in combat once they get a sufficient breed and design. Which will make things real nasty.”
“Time to move?” Joy asks, her usually dancing eyes slightly muted.
“When is it not time to move?” Seulgi asks with a wan smile as she opens up the message from Jongin.
✖
The smell of the Pens reaches Seulgi before she sees them. She barely is given the chance to look around before a familiar voice calls out and she’s wrapped in a strong hug. Jongin smells exactly like Seulgi remembers: of cigarettes and dog hair. He smiles just the same too, arms strong in a hug around her and bright look on his face. The stubble around his chin suggests he’s trying to grow a beard again, and Seulgi has to hide a laugh at it.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Jongin says, pulling back and looking as bright and enthusiastic as his ‘children’. Inside the complex, Seulgi can hear them, their voices raised in barks and howls. “Not for a least a year. It’s about time you stopped by!” Jongin looks good, skin clear and eyes bright, alive. There are new markings traveling up his darker skin, tribal from the looks of them, slowly added to his skin the higher in his order he climbs.
“Yeah, well, I guess I missed you,” Seulgi says with a smile. Jongin still hasn’t pulled away, standing so close. It’s almost like old times, before he went into the order and she went off to make her living by killing. “You got big.”
“Did I?” Jongin asks, stepping back and glancing down at himself. He’s certainly more grown than before, toned and filled into his frame. It suits him, the strong form matching the strong warm person under his skin and beneath his eyes. “Well, what can I do you for? Or did you really come all the way out here just to visit me?”
Reaching forward with a laugh, Seulgi ruffles his hair, getting the same delighted grin Jongin gets under all affection. Just like his ‘children’. “I need to buy a dog.”
“Lies,” Jongin fake gasps, stepping back and leading her into the Pens. “I thought you would never get one. Told me they were too much hassle for your line of work.”
They’re situated in some of the old abandoned warehouses near the edge of the city. Inside, just as they used to hold cargo, the pens host now dogs, or wolves really. It’s a mass of breeds, hunting dogs, wolves, Direwolves, even some of the mixed breeds with the Were or the Others. It’s an impressive selection. Walking among them, Jongin looks in his element, alive and tall, fond look on his face as he looks over his breeds.
Not one to be pushed down by his childish teasing, Seulgi punches him in the shoulder, hard. Scoffing at his pouting wince as he rubs the ‘wound’, Seulgi tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I’m serious,” she says, looking around at the Pens. “I’ve run into a bit of stuff lately that makes it practical to have a good breed with me. I figured I’d ask you first, since I actually know you won’t just sell me a beast that’ll rip my throat out.”
“Any breed you get from me will be yours,” Jongin tells her, a warm smile on his face as he looks at her. “I take good care of my kids, and they’ll take good care of you.” He looks out over his breeds, hands on his hips as they turn to him, noses in the air in all shapes and sizes. “What kind of companion are you looking for.”
“You keep saying companion like it’s going to be my new friend,” Seulgi observes, looking over the kennels as well. There are a lot of them, ranging from lean smaller dogs, clearly built for speed, and then huge Direwolves, almost the size of deer, and looking capable of ripping an ox in two with their huge jaws. “I need a wolf that will hunt and also knows how to fight.”
“I say companion because that’s what you will have once you leave here,” Jongin says seriously. “If it’s a tracking breed or one of the Direwolves, you’re going to have something that is loyal and lives and breathes with you. I don’t raise bad animals.”
“I never said you did,” Seulgi says, wanting to roll her eyes at Jongin’s apparent offense. “I trust you,” she adds, and Jongin softens a little. “So, what do you recommend? I’m going into thick territory, with fighting and the constant threat of the war, so I need-”
“Something that reflects that,” Jongin finishes, a knowing smirk on his face. Some of the ink against his skin almost seems to move as he turns, flexing against his neck as it appears to crawl up to his jawline. Seulgi wonders how much of it is actual ink and how much is the Maji tribal markings, infused with the presence of magic that had been brought with them when they came from Sector 51. “How about Chansik? He’s loyal and an excellent fighter.”
The hound in question is a purebred hunting dog, his eyes dark and fur pitch black. He almost looks like a shadow, eyes piercing as they fix on Seulgi and he stares silently at her. He appears to be a good choice but…
“No,” Seulgi says, shaking her head and stepping back from the pen of dogs. “I need something with a bit more bite to it. Do you have any cross breeds between the Direwolves and-”
“Are you sure you want something with Direwolf blood?” Jongin asks, frowning as he looks over at the pen of the breeds in question.
The Dire breeds came into existence after the Maji flooded the planet. They brought with them enormous creatures, far larger than the animals that existed on Earth that was. They were massive, taking down prey easily and upsetting the natural balance. It wasn’t long before they earned the reputation of ‘Dire’ based on the old myths of huge hulking beasts, and soon after they were bred and kept for practical purposes. Some still live in the wild, but they’re rare and extremely dangerous.
The selection of Direwolves Jongin has is… impressive considering they tower nearly as tall as he does. Huge, unearthly creatures with wisdom and viciousness in their eyes that growls with knowledge beyond this world. It resonates in Jongin though, in his heritage, his Maji blood, and the markings growing on his skin as his bond with the animals grows.
Seulgi can feel it, and turns from the pen for the Direwolves. They’re only held in the kennel for their obedience to Jongin, and Seulgi knows they could break through it like twine and run free. But they don’t, a symbol of Jongin’s power over them and all of his breeds. “Not a pure Direwolf,” she says, looking towards a kennel near the back. “Something more like a mixed breed between them and a-”
“So you want a true hunter,” Jongin answers, cutting her off again with a bit of a bemused look. “That’s a vicious breed you’re after.”
“I wanted something to match me well,” Seulgi answers. Jongin barks out a laugh, an echoing howl and barking clammer following the sound of his ringing voice.
“How about Flower?” Jongin suggests, gesturing into the pen. Which one is ‘Flower’ exactly is beyond Seulgi, as in the pen in question the hunting wolves, a bit larger than typical grey wolves, are all currently in a ball of snarling snapping jaws. It’s hard to tell how many wolves there are amidst the fighting, and Seulgi feels a brief moment of hesitation at getting a wolf that’s so violent. “Ay!” Jongin shouts, clicks his tongue and whistles low.
Immediately, the wolves break apart with a final snarl, turning to him and all ceasing their row. One, closest to them, has it’s lips curled back in a snarl, eyes bright and almost glowing amber. “So,” Seulgi says, looking at the wolf that is still poised with raised hackles, staring at Jongin and herself. “Which one is ‘Flower’?”
“That one,” Jongin indicates, pointing with a smile to the wolf currently snarling at Seulgi.
“He seems-”
“She,” Jongin corrects.
Turning to flash him a brief look, Seulgi turns back to the wolf. The snarl has abated, but the wolf still looks intimidating. She’s a large creature, probably would stand as tall as Seulgi’s elbow. “She seems friendly.”
“You asked for a hunting wolf,” Jongin says with a loud laugh, looking down at ‘Flower’ with a fond look in his eye. “She’s actually a great wolf. Loyal, fierce, extremely competent, and never afraid to jump into a fight. I think you’d like her.” ‘Flower’ snaps her jaws, letting out a low growl.
“As long as she doesn’t rip my throat out,” Seulgi says. ‘Flower’s eyes are sharp, keen and flickering as they move between Jongin and Seulgi. She’s a stunning wolf really, sleek gray coat and a wonderful build. She’s strong, toned, and honestly quite a beautiful creature. “I like her.”
The wolf settles a bit as Jongin explains a few things, regular care and working, the bonding process that will transfer ownership and therefore alliance, the ‘calling’, and basic training. “I promise, I’ll take good care of her, papa,” Seulgi teases when Jongin keeps glancing back at ‘Flower’ as if worried.
“I know you will,” Jongin admits, but looks a bit more relaxed as he finally calls ‘Flower’ forward. “I just- I’m worried about both of you if you’re out there.”
“I can take care of myself,” Seulgi says, and then bites her tongue. Part of the reason she’s here is because she’s worried about that, about finding herself up against something she can’t take down. A wolf would help. She’s also here because even just having the company of a wolf would probably chase away some of the idle loneliness that creeps up on her. “And now I’ll have ‘Flower’ to help look after me too.” ‘Flower’ snorts at her, but sits when Seulgi throws her a raised look. There’s a flicker in the wolf’s eyes that Seulgi almost… “Plus, you know how well I look after my things.” Jongin gets a toothy grin and Seulgi laughs, wrapping an arm around his neck and tugging him down, ruffling his hair with aggressive fondness. “Took care of you at one point!” she jeers, laughing as Jongin yelps with his own laughter, trying to shove her off.
“Okay, okay, fine,” Jongin says, bright with laughter and flushed. “You’re a big girl and so is ‘Flower’-” ‘Flower’ snorts again and her ears go back a little as Jongin looks at her fondly “- I just worry about my girls.”
“Worry about yourself and let your girls take care of themselves,” Seulgi laughs, shoving Jongin’s grinning face away. Yet when she reaches for ‘Flower’, the wolf’s ears go flat back and she snaps, a vicious snarl emitting from her throat.
Somehow, this makes Jongin laugh. “Try that again if you want to lose your hand,” he almost giggles, and then takes Seulgi’s hand instead. Rolling up the sleeve of her leather jacket, he dips his fingers into a pouch at his waist, pulling them out brown and glistening. It looks like mineral paint, similar to the tattoos on his skin. “Hold still,” Jongin instructs her.
The first touch is almost cool, like a lick of water against her skin and Seulgi pushes down a shiver. Jongin draws careful lines over the inside of her forearm, muttering in a soft jumbled tone that sounds eerie, a mix of sound more than syllables. As his fingers draw over her skin, the painted lines from his fingertips glow and warm, sinking into her skin. Glancing over, ‘Flower’ is watching them intently, her amber eyes bright and fixed on Jongin’s fingers against Seulgi’s wrist.
With a final close of his hand over the bottom of the design, Jongin lets out a low heavy sigh, pressing down hard. Eyes closed, he breathes in deep, then opens them, the light in them almost gleaming, before stepping back. ‘Flower’ doesn’t move, instead watching him silently with her body tense. She lets out a soft growl as he extends his hand, placing the palm directly over the center of her head, pressing down gently between her ears.
Half expecting ‘Flower’ to leap up with a snarl and take Jongin’s hand off, Seulgi is surprised as the wolf instead quiets, head bowing in respect. Then the wolf looks up, eyes bright, and fixes on Seulgi. She doesn’t snarl or growl or tense, but instead looks at her with the utmost attention and devotion.
“She’s a class breed,” Jongin says, stepping back to stand beside Seulgi. At a glance, Seulgi knows the markings on his skin aren’t only tattoos, they’re tribal brandings, connecting him to his own Maji. “Take care of her, and she’ll never leave you.”
“So this is what it feels like to be a master,” Seulgi muses, looking down at the wolf she’s just been bound to.
“Or a parent,” Jongin elaborates, and the gentle look of affection in his eyes is almost overpowering. “You can touch her now.”
‘Flower’ doesn’t move to bite, or hurt, or do anything aside from accept the gentle pat that Seulgi delivers to the top of her head. In fact, she leans up into it, eyes closing and butting up a bit for more. Grinning, Seulgi leans more into it, petting and ruffling ‘Flower’s head, ears, and face.
“She’s also about eighty credits,” Jongin adds.
“Sixty five,” Seulgi retorts easily, smiling as ‘Flower’ steps right to her side when she stands again.
“Eighty.”
“Jongin, I’m not giving you eighty credits for a wolf that’s-”
“Seventy-five,” Jongin says quickly, frowning.
“Seventy,” Seulgi proposes. “And I’ll take you and your favorite pup to dinner.”
“Done,” Jongin says, a sudden brilliant grin on his face. Seulgi remembers only a little too late that Jongin doesn’t shake on deals, he hugs on them. Those bone crushing hugs that squeeze the wind right out of Seulgi’s lungs and leave her aching a bit even as a smile spreads on her face.
✖